lifeofawillow

i don’t even think i have it anymore

and here you are

wanting to take it.

go home little boy

and play with your doll

leave me be

with my simple soul

that feels too much

and can’t let go.

go.

im sad.

possibly indelibly so.

ive hurt what i can’t

and regret every step.

i need to retrieve

but seem blind deaf and dumb.

mostly dumb.

so dumb.

ive repeated a tragedy

cause im nothing myself

and never did learn

how to breathe on my own.

im sad.

i am.

and don’t know how

to fix this mess.

i don’t know how

just don’t know

how.

I think we need to go.

As usual nothing worked

Because I trusted

Because nothing was up to me

Because the money wasn’t mine

The power never is

And the choices are always bad.

And I always choose

Based on some spiritual ideal

That doesn’t exist

And the people that judge

And say it does

And tell me to make my decisions

Aren’t in my shoes

And don’t have to live my life.

And it’s a hell of a lonely one.

And I’m just trying to do my best

With nothing to show for it ever

And what I have

I built,

they come to destroy

Because what I am

And what I can do

Is never good enough

For them.

And so I suffer.

We suffer.

But now it’s too much.

I’ve been lied to one time too many

In their quest to save me.

And it’s all crashing down

In a really bad way.

I have to go.

I know I must.

I don’t know how

But I have nothing else.

Nothing else at all.

nothing still
except the usual
nothing
and still
so even without
any me anymore
there’s never been anything
as still
as this nothing’s ever been
still.

i wonder if the loss of a person
really goes as unnoticed
as it seems.

i feel ive been hit by a bus.

beaten up in ways unexplainable.

torn to shreds over nothing much

except for the lack

of who i am…

if i went now

no one would understand.

even were i to write-

a full sequence

of life events

up until

this cruel moment

of my undoing-

it still would go

unheard.

cause people hear

what they want to hear

and people see

what they want to see

and all ive felt,

in all this time,

would be squandered

on people that have

their own version

of a history not their own.

and so

these are notes..

hard to decipher perhaps,

but here.

if anyone cares

for truth

at all.